Devotion
by leamaryu
Summary: COMPLETE STORY-This fic is set after NS, but before EotW, and involves Moiraine and Lan. When Moiraine began her search for the infant that would grow up to save the world, she never thought she'd go back to Cairhien. She is, and the family is not pleased
1. Default Chapter

The bright sun rose over the walls of a city Moiraine had sworn she would never return to. The warm rays glinted off the walls making it easy for the young Cairhien woman to understand why the founders of the city had called it 'The hill of the Golden Dawn.' The hood of her dark cloak hung low over her eyes, hiding all the details of her face, and the hem of her cloak dipped well below where her feet sat in the stirrups. She was riding as inconspicuously as she could, trying to hide every detail about her. While her presence here was only meant to be a short-term event, some of her former enemies, her former allies even, might see her presence as a direct threat to their plans. Not too many years in the past she had almost become Queen of this nation, and the man who had ascended that precarious throne was very aware that he held it only because she had deigned not to take up her birth-right.  
  
"Could you not just have one of your eyes and ears check with this woman, Moiraine?" a gruff voice spoke from behind her. Al'Lan Mandragoran was a giant of a man, his grizzled features marred by scars from almost forty years of constant battles would make most women tremble in fear, but not Moiraine. She smiled at his comment. It had taken him some years to stop questioning her every decision, and until this, he had gone an entire month without asking about the wisdom of this or that.  
  
"Of course not Lan. I could hardly send a woman into that city with such a vague description as 'Sukira Dromanes, of the foregate in Cairhien, and her babe Draen.' Yes, they could ask questions, and probably find out all the information I need, but they would not be able to relate it directly to me the way it was said, and if she is dead, would they hunt the boy?" She made sure to keep her eyes downcast, and her hands hidden underneath her cloak.  
  
Growling the man spurred his horse off ahead of her, scouting the area to make sure no one was following them. Part of his urge to patrol was a threat from her past, a man by the name of Gorthanes. When Moiraine first attained the shawl, it was thought that the Hall would have her set upon the throne of Cairhien as the first Queen to be openly Aes Sedai. This went against the plans of several parties, both in Cairhien and in the rest of the world. One of those interested parties had hired this man to hunt her down and kill her. So far, he had failed.  
  
In the eighteen years since she had begun her search, and when he began his hunt for her, she had dared to hope he was gone. But recently, certain events gave her reason to doubt his disappearance. A man with a poison knife under her bed, a woman with tea and a dagger, and most recently two men and a woman asking for healing who each held a sharp object. Between the One Power, her belt knife, and Lan's skills she had survived each attempt on her life. Now, her quest took her into the lion's den, where she would be able to further her quest and put this nuisance to rest. Thundering hooves announced the party long before they arrived, and as they crested the hill in front of her Moiraine realized why. It was almost a full regiment of mounted cavalry, all cantering hard. When they saw her, they slowed to a walk, until their officer was close enough to talk with the lone woman.  
  
"Madam, it is hardly safe to be out riding alone, even this close to the city. May I offer my assistance?" He bowed in his saddle. A young lord, obviously, by the three feathers of rank, and the ornate gilding on his armor. "My name is lieutenant Grammel Damodred, and I would be more than willing to send an escort with you to your inn, or where ever you will be staying." An obvious attempt to gain information on her. Moiraine made a mental note to send a letter to this boy's mother telling her to school him better in Daes'Daemar. It was intolerable that a member of her family could be so inept at the game. Before she could answer, another set of hooves sounded, Lan.  
  
"I am here with the Lady. She needs no other escort, so you can take this lot of boys where ever it was you were headed." His voice was gruff and as cold as winters in the Borderlands. Most would think him a man in full control, but Moiraine knew he was hovering on the edge of violence. The young boy obviously did not know a better fighter when he met one.  
  
"I'm not sure if you're an acceptable companion for a lady, sir. I think that my men and I should escort the Lady to the City. My lady, if you will." He turned his back to Lan, making his first major mistake. The quiet whisper of steel sliding against leather was all the warning he received. Wheeling to face his attacker, he came face to face with the point of hard steel, forged by the One Power in the Age of Legends, this blade would never break and never need sharpening, and most of all could slice through any armor the man wore. Before it went beyond the point of no return, Moiraine put a stop to it by reaching out and putting her hand on Lan's arm.  
  
"That is quite enough. Grammel, I am sure your orders are very important, and it would not do to have the Damodred name marred any blacker than it already is. Our family does not need that. I will tell you simply, older cousin to younger, go on with your duties and do not spread word of this. Not for any plan or game. My arrival here is a secret, and it must remain so. Now, ride on with your men, and make sure they keep their silence as well. I will not accept failure, so do not fail me. Go." Moiraine had grown up in the royal palace, and had learned the voice of command so well some of her cousins had called it her art. Obviously it still worked, because the boy turned and ordered his men to leave without another protest. The voice of command used with certain code words ensured obedience from minor relatives, and it was luck alone that kept those words the same as when she had learned them more than twenty years before.  
  
Lan looked at her, his icy blue eyes questioning, "How long before tales of a powerful Damodred woman arriving and ordering the lesser family about before she even meets with the Head of the House begin in the City?" His tone held the closest thing to mirth she had heard from him in a long time.  
  
"He'll keep his silence, and do his best to keep his men from selling the story. We're family." Her tiny smile was the only hint of emotion on her face. Their relationship was an odd one. Both were royalty, or as good as. He the uncrowned King of a dead nation, her, the woman who would have been Queen had she not ran from it. She was an Aes Sedai; he was her warder, yet neither followed all the customs that supposedly bound all Aes Sedai and their Gaidin. He was married to his war with the Shadow, and her life was so filled with her quest, her cause, that she had only taken four lovers in the almost eighteen years she had been out of the Tower. They were complete physical opposites, yet they were the same on so many levels, they were closer than lovers could be.  
  
Nodding his head in acceptance, they rode on down the paved road not saying another word. As the city grew closer, Moiraine drew deeper into her hood, and when they were just one hill from the foregate, she stopped and dismounted without a word. She stood for a moment, and after concentrating, she returned to her saddle. Bewildered, Lan tried to look inside her hood. A very different woman met his eyes. Where Moiraine was pale with dark hair and eyes, this woman had tawny skin and hair to match, with startling blue eyes hidden behind smoky eyelids. Moiraine was always beautiful, but like this, she seemed somehow less than she was. Lan suddenly realized she was laughing. At him.  
  
"You needn't be shocked Lan, this is just another weave I learned from Sircosgi before her black sisters killed her." A different darkness entered Moiraine's eyes then. Four years previously, they had met an Aes Sedai who offered to help them. She said she had word from Siuan, and that it was vital to their search. Sircosgi had been a yellow, which set Moiraine's senses off. Siuan would hardly trust another Blue, let alone a woman from a different ajah. But the woman had certain codes that convinced Moiraine to trust her. After listening to the information the woman brought, Moiraine agreed to let her sleep in their camp. Using a technique taught to her by a very old sister, Moiraine wove ward around the other sister while she slept. In the middle of the night, Moiraine woke to a tingling. Her ward was going off. Sircosgi was channeling, and not a nice weave either. With contemptuous ease, Moiraine shielded the other woman, having an angreal one's opponent is unaware of is a large advantage.  
  
Thus began a long night of questioning that ended up teaching Moiraine several secret weaves that had previously been known only to black and yellow sisters. She had felt guilt at learning the yellow ajah's secrets, but she could not let up on this black Aes Sedai. At the end of the night, Moiraine tied off the shield on the other woman, leaving it in a knot so complex she doubted she could unknot it herself and sent the woman back to the tower. Unfortunately, she died in her sleep the night she returned, along with the three other women she had revealed to Moiraine. No one liked remembering their past failures, but this counted on Moiraine's private list of personal failures, and it galled that all the black ajah had to do to hide was to kill any who were found out.  
  
Shaking her head, Moiraine cleared her mind of the Black Ajah; that was a problem for another day. Taking up Carneira's reins, Moiraine returned to the road, Lan following after. The warder rarely relaxed, but as they entered the warren of buildings and people called the foregate, he tensed if a tight rope can be said to tense. The only thing that kept him from actually drawing his power wrought sword was the firm lump of calm nestled in the back of his head. Moiraine was entirely calm and that was all that kept him from bundling her off and back to the Tower.  
  
The garishly bright foregaters danced and whirled as music poured from the various inns, taverns, and street performers. Tightening her grip on the cloak's edge, Moiraine began a novice exorcise, the river was contained by the bank. Just because they were gauche, rude, and loud did not mean she had to avoid them or could not move through them. Deep down inside, she wondered how they could call themselves Cairhien, they behaved almost in an exact opposite of how other Cairhien acted. Her face was smooth and unruffled not showing any of the stress bubbling within her. Letting her hands hang loose, she began to take on the alternate persona. Here she was not Lady Moiraine Damodred, former High Seat of House Damodred, and former heir to the throne; here she was the Lady Alys, a minor noble from near the border with Andor. Slipping into that character was much easier than it had been in her first years. 


	2. Chapter 2

They arrived at a three-story inn with a hanging sign painted with a blue rose. The woman who owned this particular inn had once been a poor camp follower who had been knocked up and abandoned by a lieutenant in the Cairhien Calvary. She had been one of the first women Moiraine interviewed on the birth of her son. He had been born just one day too late. The woman had taken the bounty given by the Tower and bought an inn, which she named the Blue Rose. From that day forward she had been one of Moiraine's most loyal eyes and ears, and despite their long relationship, the woman's grating voice and near constant cursing still bothered the Aes Sedai.  
  
"Mistress Alys! The light be good to you, and if it don't, you just tell me where the bloody thing is and I'll find it and make it be good for you." On some level, she most likely believed she could do just that, "Now, I doubt you're here just to call on an old woman and her drunken son. I see you brought that tall dish with you again." She still had a liking for Lan, who abhorred her overly forward manners.  
  
"You're quite right Swiana, we're not here for a social call. I'd like the same arrangements I had last time, with a few more hounds guarding the flock." She delivered this whole message in the blink of an eye, and in the same breath carried on about how the weather was quite warm for this time of year. The arrangements had been very Cairhien in nature. She wanted any messages addressed to her opened in her presence by the inn keeper herself, she wanted her rooms watched day and night, to keep her privacy safe, and lastly she wanted any rumors winging through the city about either an Aes Sedai or a Lady Damodred entering the city squashed.  
  
Laughing quietly to herself, the large woman answered, "But of course, Mistress Alys. I have my own flock watched by at least five hounds, and I can send twice that to your herd. As for the rest of your previous arrangements, they will of course be honored." Bowing, she led the Aes Sedai and the warder into their private dinning room. She left, bowing at every third step. Once the door shut and latched behind her, Moiraine finally let her hood drop, along with it the weave that changed her features. It was a tiring weave to maintain, as it required the weaver to hold it, and if tied off would break or freeze, and that would be a fine thing, to have people stop and ask questions of the woman with the frozen face.  
  
Once she was herself again, Moiraine looked at Lan, and he left the room. In the few times they had stayed at inns in Cairhien, they had established a habit. They would be escorted to a private dining room, and Lan would check their rooms for any unpleasantness, and remove them if necessary. While he did that, the Aes Sedai swept the inn of mice and rats. Those creatures, though not always servants of the Dark One, were always disgusting and vile. Moiraine had always disliked the creatures, mainly because of an unfortunate event in her childhood when her younger cousin, one Barthanes, had placed a rat in her bed. She had disliked the boy ever after, and according to her sources, he had risen to be Head of the House after she did not claim the position on Laman's death. Briefly channeling, she sent out the now familiar weaves and felt as she pushed nine different rats out of the inn. She kept pushing them until they were more than a mile away. The weave she used made them want to leave the area, and hopefully none of them realized that it wasn't really their desire to leave. If any of them were being controlled by a darkfriend, their master surely knew that an Aes Sedai was behind their sudden departure. Just as she finished tying off the shield to keep the pests out, Lan slowly entered the room.  
  
"Moiraine, I found a man under the bed and two in the wardrobe, all with knives. Each one of them had either instructions from house Riatin or some article with the colors of that house. It seems rather blatant, and I doubt any assassins actually hired by a house would carry that much evidence. If you want, you can look over their bodies." He delivered this speech as he crossed the room to the pitcher of mulled wine. Pouring himself a glass, he watched her eyes.  
  
Sighing, "I expected as much. Were you able to ask any questions before they died?" His eyebrow arched and she sighed again. "Very well. Have the bodies removed to the cellar where I can examine them later. I am going to my room now. I feel the need to rest, but wake me in an hour so I can go over the bodies. Make sure they are guarded. We'll hunt the Dromanes woman later." Summoning the classic Aes Sedai serenity, she left the room in a steady glide, followed closely by Lan who only left her after she was inside her door.  
  
The hour was a quick one, and it felt like she had hardly closed her eyes when there was a timid knocking at her door. Rising out of the bed, she went to the door, and was about to unlatch it, when it struck her. The bond told her Lan was several paces directly beneath her, and even if that had not been the case, he was never timid. Preparing several weaves, some of which were very... unpleasant... Moiraine opened the door. Standing there was a small woman wrapped in as much silk as Moiraine had been upon her arrival to the city.  
  
"Cousin," her musical tones were very similar to Moiraine's own accent, "I think we may have more in common than you thought before. My younger brother arrived at the estates today with a description of a woman and a man who he had met on the road. By his description I knew it must be you, and felt that your plans would work nicely with my own. I ask simply that two cousins meet over water." Again, the codes drilled into her mind as a child surfaced and forced her to invite the woman in to the room. This would be a peaceful meeting, that was assured by the words 'over water,' not many knew that the Damodreds had borrowed that from the aiel, and even if this cousin had plans that included the death of Moiraine, the Aes Sedai was far from helpless.  
  
"Please come in. There is water near the chair on the left, and wine near the right. Sit where you will, but I can but drink what you drink, so choose wisely for both of us." The subtle dance of the game was something all Cairhien children took in with their mother's milk, and Moiraine had always had a healthy appetite.  
  
"Of course, cousin. It is much too early for wine, for now we shall drink water. Later though we may have the wine. Thank you for agreeing to this audience," her tone made it sound as if she were the one giving the audience. "My name is Caraline Damodred, your niece by your sister. A certain event has brought many of our cousins home rather quickly. My uncle, your brother was killed setting off a succession for the High Seat of the House. Within weeks each of the members of your generation were killed and my cousin securely held the seat. He has certain... tendencies that make him less than ideal for the seat." This girl was decent at the game, and unless Moiraine had lost all her touch, the girl was holding back, trying to be direct.  
  
"Caraline, we are both Cairhien. Play your games as you will, and I will understand them. Don't try to be direct, it mars your message and makes it more convoluted. Let me be direct for a moment. My nephew, your cousin, was instrumental in the removal of my brothers, sister, and cousins, and has seized the High Seat himself. Forgive me, but all I see there is a normal Cairhien family gathering." Hidden in the directness was a hook that Caraline might miss if she truly were only an intermediate player of the game.  
  
"But Moiraine, there is something different about this event. None of the assassins who removed your peers were paid by the same man, some were even paid by people who have no connection at all to Cairhien politics. Point in case, my own mother died at the hands of a maid who had taken money from an Andoran merchant. Before we could apprehend the merchant, Morgase of Andor had him arrested and tried for being a darkfriend. He hung." She was good. Neatly sidestepping the hook Moiraine had planted, she set one of her own.  
  
"I see what you are trying to side step saying, but I will not rise to that bait. You my young cousin have one choice: Go home and tell no one what you know about me. If anyone asks you thought I was a friend you have not seen in years. I tell you this now, I will take care of Barthanes as my time allows. If it suits me to allow him to remain in power, then that is according to my plans. You will not harm him or do anything to inconvenience his continued good health. Have I made myself clear, younger cousin?" There was a time for the game, and a time for an out right show of power.  
  
Bowing her head meekly, the girl answered, "Yes, cousin. I will do nothing to endanger either your secret, your plans, or Barthanes' life. If I may ask, how long do you plan on staying in the city?" Even when giving in the girl still tried to maneuver. She had spirit!  
  
"As long as is necessary, child. Now, run along, and remember our agreement." From the way Caraline stiffened that was probably the closest thing to a dismissal she had ever received. The girl stood, curtsied, and wrapped herself in her dark silk cloak. With one hand on the door latch, she turned back.  
  
"You know, you're nothing like mother. She was stubborn and firm, yes like you, but she could never switch from playing the game to commanding and back again as often or as fluently as you just did. I hope someday that my own children come to be as skilled as you are." There was a small note of family pride, both in Moiraine's skill and in the future children.  
  
"Well, child, before you hope for your future heirs, speak with your brother. He has the finesse of a Riatin, and about half as much subtlety." They both had a merry spark in their eyes. It was a long running joke through noble Cairhien houses that House Riatin was the least skilled in the Game and only managed to come out on top as often as they did because they had wealthy lands and could use them to attract more intelligent spouses. "It would not do for him to wade too deeply into a ploy, and have to flounder out of it. It would be even worse if he were to drown. Our house can hardly do with that shame, let alone losing a strong marriage alliance. He could possibly match with that girl in House Taborwin; though her uncle may insist Grammel marry into their house." Both Moiraine and Caraline laughed at that idea, the older woman's alto laugh nicely complimented by the younger woman's contralto. A sudden realization hit Moiraine. The woman in front of her was, at most, only 10 years her junior. During this whole conversation, the Aes Sedai had treated the other woman as a girl, but Caraline probably remembered the grand festival that was held to honor Moiraine's departure for the Tower. Laughing, Moiraine allowed the other woman to leave, and sank back into her chair.  
  
Just as she closed her eyes, a hard knock sounded and within a heartbeat, the door opened revealing Lan. His eyes widened a fraction to see her already awake, but with no other outward sign of shock, he began to speak.  
  
"The girl smothered in the silks? Do I need to follow her? The bodies are ready for your inspection." His icy eyes latched onto hers, and held them as she answered each of his questions.  
  
"Yes, she is a cousin of mine who recognized me from the boy's description, blast him. No, do not follow her. I think we can trust her. She has the best interest of the House in her mind, and hopes that those best interests include her on the High Seat. She will do as I told her, if only for as long as it takes for my instructions to run out, then it is all up the game. Now, escort me to the bodies." As they stepped out of the room, Moiraine's eyes swept the hallway, passing over the other doors, the rugs, the man with a knife, the walls... suddenly her eyes jerked back and her hand flew out and the weave she had held ready for the visitor who woke her flew at the greyman. 


	3. Chapter 3

In an instant, he was spread-eagled against the wall, and a secondary weave was applying pressure to his wrists making him drop the weapon and then begin to writhe in pain. Lan stopped in mid-leap realizing the Aes Sedai already had the matter in hand. Moiraine walked up to him, and tsking under her breath, adjusted the weave, bringing the man down to her eye level. Her dark eyes looked deep into his matte black eyes, and she quivered.  
  
"The soulless. Someone powerful sent a greyman after me. Lan, take this body to wherever you plan on taking the other would be assassins after I am done with them." Even though the greyman was more dead than alive, he still feared to lose that little bit of life remaining in him, so when the tall Malkieri man walked up to him and grabbed his head by both sides the greyman whimpered. Steeling his nerve, Lan twisted, and the body went limp against the bonds of air that held him to the wall. Neither the warder nor the sister liked killing helpless people, but releasing the shadow's assassin to give him a fair chance at living would be foolish. Both of them had had to live with doing things they did not like before this, and would after.  
  
Moiraine released the bonds holding the corpse and turned from Lan. They had work to do, and nothing like a squeamish stomach would stop them. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of Lan lifting the body and carrying it down the hall to the back staircase so they would not be seen. Ignoring the muffled steps, Moiraine glided across the floor to the main staircase in the front of the inn. Pausing at the uppermost step, she made sure the gem dangling on her forehead was centered, and then descended the stairs with such grace she made the stairs seem to be in a palace. With polite nods and 'no, thank you.'s she dismissed the men and women who stopped to gawk or ask if they could be of service. Scanning the room, she found the one she wanted. An older woman with graying hair who was passing drinks around a large table. Her years as a waitress were obvious in how she dealt with the various customers. She managed to deflect the worst of those wanting to pinch her, to distract those that wanted more, and to smile at the genuinely kind men who thanked her.  
  
The room seemed to stop as the vertically challenged Aes Sedai crossed the room. Every eye in the room was on her; those that didn't know she was Aes Sedai thought her a Great Lady. When she arrived at the woman's side she glanced about the room in a slow arc, making sure all saw her eyes. As those dark liquid pools met their eyes, men turned their faces and women ducked their heads. It would not do to have a Great Lady know you were watching her. Once the focus was off her, she touched the other woman's sleeve.  
  
"Alys, would you be so kind as to show me where my man put the parcels I need to examine?" A twinkle entered the graying woman's eyes, and with a small bow, she lead the Aes Sedai to a second back stairway that lead into a basement. There were lights lining the stair and several more in the room at the base. Alys shut the door behind them, and once they reached the base, both began to laugh quietly.  
  
"Moiraine! You look not a day older than when I saw you last! If I knew channeling would keep one young forever I would have beaten you to that bloody Tower!" Alys was in her early forties, and she showed every year. Her eyes wandered over the Aes Sedai's features, taking in each place where she knew a wrinkle adorned her own face; a touch of sadness entered her voice. "I would have gone with you."  
  
"Alys, we couldn't have known you had the talent too, and by the time we did know, it was too late. Please do not weep for what could have been. I still remember that brash young serving girl who smacked my face when I accused her of stealing. I remember you every time I need to pretend to be someone I am not. I even call myself Mistress Alys or Lady Alys... I think my favorite was High Lady Alys of the House Bourgeois. Please don't take those memories from me." Every ounce of Aes Sedai serenity had been stripped by that look of regret on Moiraine's long time friend.  
  
Laughing, "Well I did actually take that ring. But I needed to sell it to feed my family." With a deep sigh, she continued, "I guess as long as you remember me every time you need to be someone else, you must remember me every day! What I will never understand is why I am not chambermaid to the Queen Moiraine of Cairhien right now. You should have taken that throne. It was yours by right, and the only reason that bloody Riatin man got it was because you didn't step up. Think abut it, as an Aes Sedai you could rule for generations, guiding the nation much beyond what any one ruler hopes to do in their reign. Your family would still be whole... more or less. I do not understand." Shaking her head, she looked to her long time friend.  
  
"Alys, I am a blue Aes Sedai. I am a member of the ajah that serves causes and my cause is the most important of all. Please, do not ask, because I cannot tell you, but if I fail, the world fails. I could not have done my task as Queen of Cairhien. Which is more important, a few members of one family or the entire world? I think you know I made the correct choice." Her steady eyes locked with the other woman's until they dropped.  
  
"The bodies are through there, Aes Sedai. I would like to be of any service I can for you, so please do not hesitate to call for me, at any time." With that, the woman with graying hair retreated to the stairs, and left Moiraine alone in the basement.  
  
The three bodies were laying on a table, all lined up in a row. Their personal belongings were set out next to their owner, and all identifying belongings were set apart from the rest. Moiraine spun a quick weave to alert her if any save Lan tried to enter the basement and a second weave to ward the basement from sound. Once she was sure the room was secure, she began to delve the corpses, checking for poisons, for weaves of the Power both male and female, and lastly for cause of death, though with most of them it was quite obvious that Lan's knife had been the cause of death.  
  
Gasping, Moraine found something beyond out of the ordinary. One of the assassins had been attacked with a weave of Saidin recently. From what Moiraine could distinguish, it was almost entirely spirit, which narrowed it down quite a bit. Making a leap of conjecture, Moiraine guessed this man had been compelled to do something. Those two factors lead to one conclusion that filled her with dread: a male Forsaken was free, or at the least a Dreadlord. Both were terrifying options, and she hoped that she was wrong. Maybe some poor fool had managed to learn how to channel and had used his blessing, or curse, on this man. Even that was not a good option. Shuddering, Moiraine moved on to the other bodies. They were mainly uninteresting, except that each carried too many pieces of identification. No professional killer carried that much evidence and these were definite professionals. Confused, Moiraine left the cellar, and returned to her rooms planning to ponder these new revelations.  
  
As she settled into a plush armchair, she opened a small notebook she kept in her pouch. It was the same notebook she had begun using almost two decades before when she began this quest. The first pages were filled with names of women and their children, and after that were the names of sisters Moiraine suspected were black ajah. Leafing ahead a few pages, she began a new section, writing the descriptions of the men who had tried to kill her, their possessions, and her thoughts on each. Of course, none of the writings in the book was done in plain language. Moiraine used a mixed blend of the Old Tongue, the common tongue and a dialect found only in lost Malkier. This haphazard mixture of language allowed her to write her true thoughts and have no fear that any who discovered it would know what it was they were reading. As an added precaution, Moiraine had woven a ward around the whole notebook that was sensitive to her touch. If any hand but hers tried to open the small book, the book would burst into flames burning the thief and filling the room with an acrid smoke. She hoped she never had to smell that smoke again.  
  
Reminiscing took Moiraine back to the days when she had learned that weave. Tarabon had been a rat's nest of trouble, and none of the women on her list still lived where they had signed on the list. One day, while pretending to be the Lady Alys, a messenger arrived at the Panarch's palace asking for a Lady of the same name. When Moiraine arrived in the hall, she was met by a woman wearing a thick woolen cloak despite the muggy heat. At her arrival, the woman dropped the cloak, and leaned in to whisper into Moiraine's ear.  
  
"I met with a blue fisherbird recently, who told me to ask for the Lady and tell her that certain darker friends of the Lady's and the bird's were looking for the Lady and whatever it was the Lady was looking for. The bird then told me to tell the Lady 'A blue rose grows in Ghealdan, near the coast of ivory, and a Tairen fishmonger asks twice what her merchandise is worth.' Would you like me to return with a message to the bird?" She delivered this all as if discussing the weather, but in a low enough voice so no casual passerby could hear her words.  
  
Going over the code in her head, Moiraine prepared her response. "I've always been partial to the blue ones, and tell the bird to ask the fishmonger for six grunters and three silverpike, but only at three crowns apiece. I will send her the payment after I have collected from some of our mutual debtors." Running through the codes, she was sure she had said it all right. Of course, the blue roses and all was the standard preface to any message from a blue agent, but all that about a Tairen fishmonger was directly from the fishmonger herself. The 'darker friends' were black sisters, and that they were looking for Moiraine and the Dragon Reborn was a problem. The grunters were months and the silverpike were weeks, the price was unimportant, she could have said at a hundred crowns each and Siuan would have known what she meant. Moiraine would only be in the west for another six, almost seven, months, and then she would return to Tar Valon.  
  
Bowing, the woman left Moiraine. The Aes Sedai then returned to her rooms in time to find a serving girl flipping through her notebook. Softly closing the door, Moiraine crept up behind the woman, preparing weaves of air to hold the woman in case she tried anything violent.  
  
"I hope you found what you were looking for." The girl jumped several feet into the air, and wheeled about, looking very foolish.  
  
"Lady Alys. The Great Lady, she said that you would be gone for a time, and she wanted some names from a book you kept. She ordered me into your rooms. Please don't have the cook beat me." She was now groveling on the ground, trying to gain Moiraine's favor.  
  
"Child, tell me the Great Lady's name, and where she is staying. Then you will go to the head maid, and tell her I asked her to give you five lashes with a belt. Make sure she knows I want her to do it, and will check with her later that she carried it out. Now, tell me."  
  
The girl's eyes popped, it was well known that the head maid had been a blacksmith for several years before becoming a maid. "The Great Lady is staying in the townhouse of House Cordelaron. She isn't one of that house, but a guest of their lord. But she won't be there now, my lady. She told me to meet her in the third basement where we store the dark wines. She said to meet her inside the hour. I must go quickly to be there on time." She bowed as if to leave, but Moiraine stopped her.  
  
"You will go to the Head Maid, I will deal with this Great Lady. What did you say her name was?" she began tapping her foot. It was not a breach of Aes Sedai calm, however. She did it on purpose, knowing it made some servants and lower folk wary, and more willing to obey.  
  
"Yes, my lady. The Great Lady is called Aemilee. She did not give a surname. May I leave now?" at Moiraine's nod, she practically bolted out of the apartment. Moiraine, however, took more time, grabbing a small angreal she kept with the permission of the hall. Aemilee may be as strong as she, but Moiraine doubted the woman carried an angreal, and that could be the extra edge she needed. Striding out of the room, Moiraine stopped, and wove a small ward around her rooms, one that would keep anyone from entering the room. She made a mental note to always weave that around her rooms when she was not in them. The trip across the city was uneventful, and Moiraine used the time to prepare what she would say.  
  
She arrived at the door and when it was opened, she told the coatman that she had business with the Lady who was guesting in the house. The servant took her cloak and offered to show her to the Lady's sitting room, Moiraine declined. The Aes Sedai swept up the stairs crossing the marble floors as if they were in the Palace of Cairhien. She was the Lady Moiraine Damodred to the hilt, and if this Aemilee thought she could best her, well Moiraine would prove her wrong. Pausing at the door, she let her senses flow out. Yes, there were two women in this house who could channel, neither was as strong as she was, but both were channeling at that moment. She prepared to embrace the source through her angreal, and knocked on the door. The woman inside ceased channeling, and the door opened to reveal a short, plump woman with wings of grey at her temples. A very old Aes Sedai.  
  
"It is good that you came here of your own will child. I did not want to have to send Fallion after you." Her face smoothed into a motherly face, and she embraced the source, or tried to. Moiraine had beaten her to the draw, and held a shield between the woman and the source. The motherly expression fled and a look of rage blossomed contorting her warm visage into an ugly mask. Before she could try to claw Moiraine's face, the blue sister had wrapped the obviously black sister in flows of air, holding her tight and gagging her mouth. Before Moiraine could try to question the black sister, she felt a feeble battering at the connection between her and the source. Tying off the weaves holding the motherly black, both of air and of the shield, Moiraine made a new flow and flung the door wide open, knocking it into the other black outside the room, sending her sprawling. A second shield severed her connection to the source, and more flows of air brought her into the room. With the two sisters neatly pinioned to the wall, Moiraine walked into the hall and called for a servant.  
  
When the girl arrived, she pulled a silver crown from her purse and placed it in the girl's hand. "Now run up to the palace and find a man. He should be inside the guards' barracks, ask for Lan Mandragoran. When you find him, tell him that Lady Alys needs his help at this house. Then bring him straight here. Now go!" She turned from the girl, her eyes growing dark when she looked at the two sisters held against the wall. They were both struggling feebly, trying to break bonds no person could break without the use of the Power. Her dark eyes flashed with righteous fire, and each of the black sisters saw it and ceased struggling. They seemed to be trying to explain now. Raising her hand, Moiraine commanded silence.  
  
"Fallion. How long have you been Aes Sedai?" she removed the gag of air long enough for the woman to answer her question.  
  
"I was raised just five months past-..." The gag of air inserted itself back into her mouth. The Cairhien Aes Sedai began tapping her lips with the forefinger of her left hand, her right hand cupped her elbow, and she began pacing.  
  
"Now, a young, newly raised sister traveling with a much older sister, both of which tried to shield me, and when that failed, tried to attack me. What does that sound like to you two? No, don't answer. I think I know what it means. You two are black ajah." They began to shake, frantically trying to deny the accusation. Laughing, Moiraine continued, "So, the question becomes for me, what to do with you. I think you will tell me everything you know. Starting with you, Mistress Aemilee." Thus began a long night of questioning, when Lan arrived, they worked together, inspiring fear and making each other be firm when it was needed. At one time, Moiraine went to look in one of Aemilee's books, searching for answers, the book flashed into flame. The small Aes Sedai turned to look at the older woman, a dark gleam in her eye. Before the night was out, Moiraine knew exactly how to form the weave that would protect secret documents. 


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of Lan reentering the room snapped her back from the reverie into the present. His icy eyes met hers, and she knew he had a lead. Setting the notebook down, she stared into his eyes, willing him to breach the subject, but somehow he refused. Finally, she gave in and asked.  
  
"Lan, what have you discovered?" Her simple question was just that, and had no hooks or barbs hidden within it. Surprised, it took Lan a moment to answer her.  
  
"Well, Moiraine. A man who works for various houses hired the men who hired the men who tried to kill you. I found him and ... convinced him to tell me for whom he had hired those men. It was your nephew, Barthanes. I think we should take some time and visit him. To disabuse him of the idea of trying to kill you." He cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms, and somehow those simple motions made him seem even more dangerous than normal. His pale blue eyes had taken on an icy chill, and Moiraine doubted Barthanes would survive the encounter, unless she made sure Lan did not go too far.  
  
"Gaidin, we will go meet with my nephew, and we will convince him of the error of his ways, but you will not harm him. It would be the worst thing we could do for the house and Cairhien." His jaw tightened, and he looked as if he would argue the point more, but Moiraine prodded that bundle of emotions in her head, and looked at him, her left eyebrow arching.  
  
"Yes, Moiraine Aes Sedai. I will obey you in this, but I tell you now, I swore to protect you, no matter the threat. If we find this man to be more of a threat than you had thought before, he won't live long enough to realize his mistake." That bundle of emotions had gone from feeling as hard as the usual block of iron to feeling like heartstone. Al'Lan Mandragoran's word was as good as the word of an Aes Sedai who had just sworn her oaths on the rod. They went to their rooms to prepare for the evenings events.  
  
Lan came out of his room, and as he entered the common room, every voice hushed. He was dressed as a Battle Lord of old. His gauntlets and greaves shone silver in the firelight; his scaled shirt armor was hidden underneath his black silk shirt, but glints of silver flashed at his throat. For once, he was wearing a normal cloak, albeit a cloak few lords could afford. It was thick with layers of oiled silk on the outside, down feathers sewn into the lining, and a warm layer of lamb's fleece on the inside. On his head, he wore the traditional ha'dori, but woven around it was a small golden cord, the ends of which dangled at his temples. He was magnificent. The most regal image any in the common room would ever see. Until Moiraine entered the room.  
  
A dazzling net of onyx beads and sapphires, woven to suggest water, held her hair back. Her dress matched the jet-black beads, but was made of a material so light that in some places it seemed to lift off the woman underneath it. At the wrists, the neck, the buttons that ran down the front, and at the hem silver and cobalt embroidery hinted at waves crashing on rocks and vines climbing mountains. From top of the neck of the gown all the way to the bottom, red, green and black stripes marched all in a row. As the most senior member of her house, she was entitled to each and every stripe she wore. Her cloak was a rich satin the same shade as the sapphires and the embroidery, and at its edges black stitching showed tiny climbing roses scaling her shoulders. Amid this stunning vision a small blue stone rested on her forehead, and any who saw it were drawn into its depths. Moiraine was more regal than any queen was with an army at one hand and ten Aes Sedai advisors on the other. She was royalty incarnate. "Let us visit my nephew."  
  
The two of them stepped into the street, and every eye was drawn to them. Moiraine resisted smiling when she heard drivers begin cursing when their coaches collided. It had been many years since she stopped traffic. Without moving a muscle, they made it known the wanted a coach to convey them somewhere, and within a blink five different coached were jostling in front of them, trying to gain their patronage. The Aes Sedai and Gaidin chose the one that looked the most successful, feeling that their coach would lend as much to the image they wanted to create as their wardrobe. A few simple words were all it took to get the driver moving, heading for the stately town home that Lord Barthanes lived in. When they arrived it was obvious Moiraine's nephew was entertaining this evening. Coaches lined the streets for several streets in all directions. When their driver pulled in front of the manor, Lan leaned forward and gave him instructions on when to return for them. He only waited long enough for them to be entirely out of his vehicle before racing off to sell his information of the Great Damodred Lady who arrived at Barthanes' manor with no notice.  
  
The doorman's eyes bulged when he saw Moiraine's dress, and nearly fell out of his head when he saw Lan. They were a stunning pair. The sister and her warder left their cloaks with the servant, and waited for the next servant to announce their arrival. Moiraine watched the crowd as their names were read, "The Lady Moiraine Damodred, Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah. Al'Lan Mandragoran, of Malkier, warder to Lady Moiraine Aes Sedai." She had wanted Lan to use his full title: Diademed Battle Lord, uncrowned King. But his rock stubborn pride refused to bend, but he did accede to admitting his nationality.  
  
Men and women who had been playing the game years before Moiraine had been born lost their calm and even went so far as to let their jaws drop at their names. Lan's sword drew many eyes, but Moiraine had insisted he wear it. For that matter, Lan had insisted he wear it. As the Aes Sedai descended the steps, a tall, thin man approached. At first, Moiraine feared a ghost had come to haunt her, the man looked so like her long dead uncle that she almost quivered at the sight of him, but taking hold of herself, she forced her face into tranquility.  
  
"Moiraine Aes Sedai, cousin, it is well that you found the time to come and visit the family here. May I offer you a townhouse for your use?" He was skilled in the game. "I could even offer you this one. I just acquired some lands, formerly belonging to the crown, and have already had a rather large manor built there. This was my going away party."  
  
Moiraine's smile held as much warmth as a borderland winter. "My young cousin, much has come to my attention. We will talk. In the upstairs library." At his shocked look, she let her icy smile broaden a hair, "Remember, this was the home my parents lived in when they wished to avoid the palace. I know it from the rafters to the bedrock. Let us go talk." Their family training went to deep for him to disobey the will of one wearing that many stripes, using those codes. He made polite excuses to his guests as he left with his cousin and her warder. When they arrived, he made another play at being the kind host.  
  
"Take a seat near the fire, cousin. This has been a cool spring. Would you like some..." without moving or saying a word, Moiraine made her presence so overbearing, he could not continue talking. Some fools thought it was a trick of the power, but it was just self-confidence. Knowing that one held power, and that that power was stronger than any other was. She lifted her slim, pale hand and pointed to a wooden chair near the fireplace. She turned to Lan, and her eyes told him where to wait for her. As he left the room, the candles dimmed, and the fire beneath the mantle leaped up. That was a trick of the Power.  
  
With a deft flick of spirit, she wove a web that once it settled on him, forced him to speak only the truth. "Barthanes, tell me. Are you a darkfriend?" Her liquid eyes were like pools that drowned souls, and the younger man found himself quaking as he nodded, and tried to say the words.  
  
"Yes, cousin. I gave my soul to the Great Lord seven years ago, and he had blessed me." His whole body was shaking now.  
  
Disgust flared in those soul-drowning pools, "Have you ever tried to kill me, my warder of another Aes Sedai?" Another weave of air, fire, and spirit made her words sound like they filled the room and bored into his soul.  
  
Shaking, his tongue darted out between his lips, "No... Aes Sedai. I have not tried to kill you, al'Lan, or any other sister." His eyes were leaping about. He was terrified now.  
  
"I tell you now, if I knew you had done anything yourself, I would crumple you now, and send your soul down to your Great Master, to see what he would do with you. But my oaths do not allow for punishment. Count your blessings, flea." With a weave of air, she lifted him to his feet. "Do you know a man named Gorthanes?" His eyes widened until they were almost pure black pools.  
  
"Know him? He is the one who gives me my orders. Gorthanes is the leader of my-" his voice cut off as a quiet noise sounded behind Moiraine's back. She released the weaves holding Barthanes in the air, and rewove them into bonds holding him to the chair, then turned to the noise from behind her. It was he, Gorthanes.  
  
The short man laughed. "Yes, I lead this pathetic fool's circle. I receive my orders directly from Ishmael himself. I did not think my task would be this easy. I had feared I would have to hunt you to Arad Doman or some other dark end of nowhere. Thank you for coming here, where I can deal more easily with you." Moving so fast his hand blurred, the man launched a thin bladed knife across the room. Moiraine gasped as the blade slid between her ribs. Her groan was loud enough that Lan heard it, and the door opened to let Death flow in.  
  
Using his sword, hands, and feet, Lan managed to kill the would-be assassin, and was about to decapitate Barthanes, when Moiraine stopped him. "My Gaidin. Stop. Barthanes. This is your only warning. If I have any more attempts on my life, I will return here, and do worse to you than you fear anything your lord could do. Rule this house well, and know if you displease me, that will be as fatal as trying to kill me." Then she gasped, and fell back. Moving faster than most men could, Lan gathered Moiraine in his arms, and bore her out of the house. He bundled her into the first coach they found, and raced back to their inn. There he left a purse that easily weighed twice what the entire inn was worth, and raced out of the city. He tied her onto Carneira, and led the smaller horse on Mandarb. 


	5. Chapter 5

They rode through the night, through the next day, and well into the second night before they stopped to water the horses. The only thought in his head was that Moiraine would die without healing, and the only sister he knew to trust was living in the tower. The horses were both winded, yet he forced them to gallop on. In those three days and nights, they covered more than three quarters of the distance between Cairhien and Tar Valon, but in the fourth night, disaster struck. Carneira fell and broke her leg.  
  
Cursing the horse, Lan slashed its throat to put an end to its screams, and then pushed Moiraine onto Mandarb's back. The tall man began running alongside the horse, and kept running with them even though his calves began to ache and cramp. When they arrived at the Alguenya, he sighed, and let the horse drink, but before either man or beast quaffed their thirst, he had them running again. As the sun began to set, the bridge town came into view, and hope stirred in Lan's heart. Moiraine would live. He began to chant to himself: Must Run. Will Live. Must Run. Will Live.  
  
Man and Horse ran straight through the bridge town, over the awe- inspiring span, and through the most beautiful city in the world. They never stopped, not for tower guards, not for sisters asking what was wrong, they even ran through people who traveled too slowly. As Lan's energy began to fade, they mounted the steps to the main gates of the White Tower. Lan bellowed at the first Guard he saw.  
  
"If you wish to live beyond this day you son of a sheep, you will find Anaiya Sedai NOW." In mid-bellow, he lifted Moiraine from the saddle, and began making her comfortable. He glared at all others who approached, and kept them all at bay, until Anaiya arrived. As the blue sister arrived, Lan's vision blurred, and he saw her place her hands on Moiraine. That was the last thing he saw that day.  
  
The warm light from the dawn hit Lan's eyes, and even as he tried to ignore it, it drew him out of the warm depths of sleep. His eyes fluttered open, and to his surprise, a small Cairhien woman was sitting at his bed's edge.  
  
"Lan Gaidin, you have more pride than any ten kings. The High Lords of Tear cannot match you for shear egotism. (A/N: I wanted to use chutzpah, but I doubt Moiraine is Jewish... ;) ) But you are the only man who could run from Cairhien to Tar Valon in four and a half days." Warmth and love flowed through the bond, not the love of man and wife, but of friends united in their war. "Thank you my Gaidin."  
  
"I promised to keep you alive. I never said anything about myself." His voice was weaker than he'd ever heard it. "How long have I been resting?"  
  
She tried not to look at him, "You will just rest until you are healthy again." His eyes hardened, and she relented. "This is the eleventh day since we arrived in Tar Valon."  
  
"When do we set out again?" As he spoke, he swung his legs out of the bed, and heard Moiraine muttering.  
  
"More pride than twenty kings, with their armies." She increased her volume; "We will leave in two days, for Illian. There was a story of a commander from that army who found a boy, and took him to raise as his own. If you are able to ride by then, that is."  
  
"I will ride whenever you say, wherever you say. If you take me to the pit of Doom, or to the far side of the Aryth, it matters not." Then, the two warriors began to plan the next years of travel. Two months to Illian, at least another two to hunt down all the mothers on their list, then another month to Caemlyn. Finally, they would search in what used to be Manetheren. Very few lands could claim blood that old.  
  
A/N: Well, did you like it? I enjoyed writing it, and I finished the whole story! Yay! Cookies for me! Hee hee! Cookies for you if you review! Hint hint! I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any ideas you want to share with me on my writing, on WoT or on your writing, let me know! I want to hear from ya'll. ( 


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